There is a passage from Theodore Roosevelt’s famous speech, The Man in the Arena, that has stayed with me for years. He said:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena… who strives valiantly… who errs… who comes short again and again… who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.”
So, what does it mean to be the woman in the arena?
It means showing up — wherever it is you want to be in life — even when you feel like you do not belong there yet.
For a long time, I viewed certain worlds from a distance. Investing was one of them. The first time I heard about women like Arlan Hamilton and Serena Williams building their own venture capital firms, something inside me awakened. But alongside the inspiration came another feeling — distance.
I told myself that world belonged to other people.
People with the right passport.
The right background.
The right education.
The right connections.
People who looked and sounded a certain way.
So, I stayed outside the arena, observing.
But the day I decided to stop watching from the sidelines and simply begin, everything started changing.
I began approaching people and speaking openly about the investment company I wanted to build. I did not have everything figured out. I did not have all the answers. But I had decided I no longer wanted to be part of the crowd watching life happen for other people.
And something unexpected happened after that.
The moment I stepped into the arena, opportunities started appearing everywhere.
Suddenly, I was on calls with investors in Indonesia who were walking me through their investment opportunity decks. I found myself entering showrooms in Kuala Lumpur and being presented with investment opportunities. Land. Companies. Property developments. Real conversations with real people building real wealth.
The day I had a call with investors in Indonesia, I remember sitting there thinking to myself:
There are people who live like this every single day.
People who spend their time discussing investments, evaluating opportunities, building companies, acquiring land, and creating wealth as part of their normal reality.
And for the first time, I stopped seeing that world as something happening far away from me.
Not because I had become an expert overnight.
Not because I was fully ready.
But because I had finally entered the room.
That experience taught me something powerful:
You begin seeing opportunities differently when you start identifying yourself as someone who belongs in the arena.
The most important thing that changed, was not my knowledge. It was my identity. I stopped seeing myself as someone watching powerful people build the world and started seeing myself as someone capable of participating in it.
Am I ready?
No.
There is still so much for me to learn. There are rooms I still walk into feeling nervous. There are conversations where I know I am the least experienced person there. There are moments where I question myself, my knowledge, and whether I truly belong.
But I no longer want to sit with the crowd.
I no longer want to spend my life watching other people build companies, create wealth, pursue bold dreams, and shape extraordinary lives while convincing myself that world was not meant for me.
Because the truth is, the arena does not ask you to arrive perfect.
It asks you to arrive willing.
Willing to learn.
Willing to be uncomfortable.
Willing to ask questions.
Willing to look like a beginner.
Willing to grow publicly.
Willing to fail while daring greatly.
This is not only about investing.
It is about every dream you have been standing outside of.
The business you want to build.
The career you want to pursue.
The book you want to write.
The life you secretly desire but keep observing from a distance because you think you need permission before entering.
You do not.
Opportunities rarely find people hiding in the crowd. They find the ones already in motion. The ones showing up before they feel fully qualified. The ones dusty, uncertain, still learning, but brave enough to stand in the arena anyway.
The arena is not reserved for the fearless.
It belongs to those willing to enter despite the fear.
So, enter the room.
Enter the conversation.
Enter the industry.
Enter the dream.
And when doubt whispers that you do not belong there, remember:
Nobody becomes the woman in the arena by staying in the crowd.
Be the woman in the arena. ⚔️✨
Salima
Just me thinking out loud over here